Can You Keep a Secret?
by dazeychains
Summary: Stiles has taken to going to Jungle to escape the confusing thoughts he's been facing. He loves the atmosphere there, until he runs into Derek. The two swear no one will know, but Stiles begins to enjoy having this secret with Derek. He does his best to see what other secrets the two can keep. Set after Season 2. ((Trigger Warning for attempted non-con))
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is not only my first Teen Wolf fic, it's really the first fic I've ever written. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, review and rate and feel free to give me any tips! I already have most of it done, so we should be able to crank out an update a day. Enjoy!**

Stiles Stilinski was pretty sure that his father would kill him if he learned Stiles was using a fake ID to go to Jungle. Or at least sit him down and question him seriously about his preferences. But Stiles just needed to escape. After everything that'd been going on, what with Allison's crazy grandfather trying to kill them all, and Scott being kicked off the lacrosse team and dumped by Allison. Not to mention Jackson deciding to up and move to London, breaking up with Lydia in the same motion. There'd just been a lot. And it was too much to think about, too much to worry about. He just couldn't talk about it. The words got stuck in his throat. At Jungle, he didn't need to talk. He could dance, and drink, and feel wanted. He was wanted at Jungle. After pulling on tighter jeans than he would normally wear, along with a long sleeved black henley that he knew showed off the muscles he gained training for lacrosse, Stiles headed out the front door. His dad was working late, and Stiles had already told him that he was going to Danny's house to play video games and practice for lacrosse. It's not a complete lie, he justified as he pulled up in front of his friend's house. Danny walked across the lawn, getting into the passenger seat of Stiles' car. Danny smiled, and they were off. Jungle was already packed. After waiting in line for a bit, Danny and Stiles got inside, their ID's sparing them from being marked with the dreaded X's on the backs of their hands. While Danny grabbed them something to drink, Stiles scanned the crowd. It was a pretty good looking group of people, though they were all men. Stiles didn't care. It was nice dancing with them, kissing them, knowing that they will take control and that for at least a little bit, he won't have to worry, won't have to plan, could just sway to the music and lose himself. Which is why, when Danny came back with the drinks to find Stiles being chatted up by a strikingly gorgeous boy with blond hair and cheekbones that could cut glass, he just smiled and handed him the drink.

"I didn't know Isaac was your type." Danny called to Stiles over the music. Stiles furrowed my brow.

"He's not," He replied, downing half his beer in one gulp. Danny laughed, and pointed at the boy next to Stiles.

"You sure? Because that guy could be his brother." Stiles saw what Danny was talking about, and immediately excused himself from that conversation. Danny laughed, and patted him on the back. "Now let's dance!"

Stiles smiled at him, finishing his beer. He grabbed Danny's hand, and the two of them danced their way into the crowd. Danny was stolen away by some guy who looked like he thought he could get inside Danny if he just danced close enough. Stiles rolled his eyes, and grabbed the neck of the boy dancing behind him, meeting his eyes over his shoulder and giving a smirk. The boy placed his hands on Stiles' hips, and they danced until Stiles decided he needs another drink. He extracted himself from his dance partner, who pouted in such a way that Stiles just wanted to bite his bottom lip. He was fascinated by the development. While he'd never considered himself exactly straight, he'd never considered himself anything else, either. Bisexuality is a thing though, right? Stiles justified, before smiling at the boy and walking to the bar. There he decided that to celebrate his newfound sexuality, he would get completely wasted. He downed two shots, before grabbing a more reasonable beer and walking back onto the dance floor, feeling pleasantly confident and in tune with the music. Or at least he was, until two overly excited dancers bumped him and he lost his balance, falling into the surprisingly sturdy lap of some poor guy sitting near the bar. Stiles got a wicked smile on his face, figuring that while he was here, he may as well make the most of it. He grinded into the lap, swaying his hips to the beat. He heard the intake of breath behind him, felt the man's hands grab his hips. He bit his lip, leaning back into the guy until he heard a strangled gasp.

"_Stiles?_" the man asked. Stiles was up on his feet so fast his head spun, and he remembered that fast movements and alcohol do not mix as he almost fell flat on his ass. He blinked multiple times, trying to process the impossible sight before him.

"_Derek?_ What the hell are you doing here?" Stiles could seriously not help looking Derek up and down, like he was expecting to see something proving that this could not be the same irritable, angry werewolf that he knew. All he saw was that _damn_ Derek knew how to dress for the gay club. He was showing off his muscled physique in a way that made Stiles look back fondly on the time he got to hold that up soaking wet for two hours. _Focus, Stilinski. You just grinded yourself all over Derek Hale._

"What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here? You're not even seventeen! And are you drunk?" Derek asked, sniffing the air around Stiles.

"Alright, Fido, back off." Stiles grumbled, pushing against his chest. "You still haven't answered my question."

"And you still haven't told me why you decided to rub yourself all over me." Derek nearly growled, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, like you didn't love it." Stiles scoffed. Derek's eyebrow climbed even higher. "Okay, you don't want to tell me why you're here, I don't want to tell you why I'm here, how about we just agree to pretend like this never happened and never ever tell another soul about this, like ever? Sounds good to me, okay great." Stiles patted Derek's shoulder, and made to move away but Derek grabbed his wrist before he could get very far.

"Nobody knows. Okay, Stiles? Nobody." Derek said, looking at Stiles with his most threatening glare. He cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. "You're not driving home tonight, right?"

"That really depends on Danny. He may drive, but if the way he was giggling earlier is any indication, he may be worse off than me. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Stiles shrugged, trying to get his hand out of Derek's grip.

"Stiles. You're not driving home tonight." Derek _definitely_ growled it this time.

"What do you want me to do? Grab a cab with my copious funds that, oh yeah, I don't have? Call my dad, the sheriff, to come pick me up, ensuring that I am never allowed to leave the house again? Good idea, I should come to you for advice more often." Stiles tried to pull his arm away again, though it really only felt like he was doing a fantastic job of dislocating his wrist.

"I will drive you and Danny home." It sounded like it cost Derek a great deal to say this.

"Alright, dude, I know I'm fantastic at giving lap dances, but that doesn't mean I'll go home with you right away." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I will drive you and Danny home _right now_," Derek elaborated. Stiles groaned, looking around the club for Danny. He spotted him making out with some guy on the dance floor. Stiles smiled, though Danny could do way better. Derek followed his gaze, narrowing his eyes when he spots Danny. "Is that all you guys do when you come here?"

"Not _all_ we do," Stiles smiled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Derek groaned, finally releasing his wrist and pushed Stiles away.

"Go collect your friend. And then come straight back here." Derek ordered. Which basically guaranteed that Stiles would do almost anything but that. He walked over to Danny, dancing through the crowd, and when Danny saw Stiles' manless state, he grabbed a random (and exceptionally attractive) guy from apparently out of nowhere. The guy and Stiles danced, grinding on each other, until the guy started placing bruising kisses on Stiles lips, which he hungrily reciprocated. Fingers pulling through hair, Stiles was loving every minute - until he was torn away, rudely wrenched from the good tasting man he'd been kissing. He looked around and saw that Danny had met a similar fate, and had been similarly displeased by it. He twisted and turned, trying to see who had their hand on his shirt collar, only succeeding in falling flat on his ass. Danny found this hysterical, laughing so hard that he fell flat on his ass. Stiles caught him, slightly, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing him to laugh like an idiot, too. Whoever had decided to rudely pull them from their fun was decidedly not impressed, yanking them to their feet and out the door. In the warm summer night air, Stiles saw who had been ruining their good night.

"Derek, come on, just let us have a little fun!" He whined, tripping over his own feet as Derek half led, half dragged the two to his car.

"I thought his name was Miguel?" Danny asked, and Stiles burst out laughing even harder, because that was ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous.

"Alright, get in the car, don't throw up on anything, and where the hell does Danny live?" Derek said, all in one breath as he pushed them into the back seat of his Camaro.

"Hey! We can't leave my baby here. You have to drive us back in that. Or I'm not going." Stiles insisted, climbing back out of the car and falling on the asphalt.

"Yeah, me neither! I wanna ride Stiles...I wanna ride in Stiles' Jeep." Danny said, laughing when he realized what he had said.

"I hate you both." Derek snarled, dragging them over to Stiles' car. He helped them both into the back seat, before getting in the front and starting the engine. "But I hate this car more. Jesus, Stiles, how is this thing still running?"

"You shut your mouth! She is perfect." Stiles defended, and began cooing at his car.

"I live..I live the street over from Scott," Danny said, leaning over Stiles' lap to tell Derek. Stiles wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him closer. "Stiles you're not my type."

"Oh come on, I am so many people's type. How can anyone resist the great and powerful Stiles?" Stiles said in a grand voice, making Danny snort.

"I don't know, witnessing that did a pretty good job." Danny laughed, pushing Stiles. Derek watched the whole encounter through narrowed eyes, before putting the Jeep in reverse, and heading towards Danny's house. Danny and Stiles ended up passing out in the back seat, cuddling each other. Pulling up at Danny's house was relatively easy, there were no heartbeats inside so he figured the Mahealani's were out for the night. He turned the Jeep off and looked at the boys in the back seat. Why on earth was Stiles at Jungle? Why on earth did Stiles have to give him a lap dance? If he had been paying any attention, it wouldn't have been hard to figure out Stiles was the one grinding into him based on scent alone, but he had been too distracted by the skill with which the boy was moving his hips, turning Derek's mind to mush. Then when it was Stiles… well that was confusing. That was beyond confusing. Stiles was annoying, not sexy. Fidgety, talkative, hyper, nosy, infuriating. Not sexy. Not mind-meltingly mesmerizing like the boy who gave him a lap dance that was better than much of the sex Derek had had. He growled, realizing that thinking about this was making his pants tighter, and shook Stiles and Danny awake with more force than may have been necessary.

"Whasshappenin?" Stiles jolted upright, smacking his head on the window. Danny came to more slowly, looking around and blinking slowly.

"We're at Danny's house. Get out." Derek barked.

"Whoa, my car, remember? I'll get out if I want to." Stiles settled back into the seat.

"Stiles, I wanna get out." Danny mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, me too." Stiles agreed, and they tumbled out of the Jeep. Derek handed Stiles back his keys before turning and walking back in the direction of Jungle. "Hey!" Derek stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow to look at Stiles while a faint blush crept up the younger boy's neck. "Thanks. No one will know." Derek nodded slowly, and then turned and walked back into the dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke up with a pounding headache and an unexplainable feeling of mortification in his stomach. He looked around, seeing Danny lying next to him on the bed, snoring softly. Stiles smiled, and rolled over to fall back asleep. The idea of sleep suddenly vanished when he remembered what had happened the night before.

"Ah, hell!" He groaned.

"What's wrong?" Danny grumbled sleepily.

"I gave Derek Hale a lap dance last night." Stiles admitted, hiding his face in his hands. Danny laughed. "What? No dude, it is so not funny. I'm surprised he didn't rip my face off."

"Whatever dude, he was at a gay club, it's not his fault that someone realized what a fine piece of ass he is." Danny shrugged, rolling onto his other side. Stiles nearly choked.

"He is not a fine piece of ass! He is… he's Derek, he's grumpy and mean and violent." Stiles spluttered.

"He's a fine piece of ass and you know it. I watched you check him out. I don't blame you. I'd tap that." Danny smiled into his pillow.

"Okay, I don't even want to know where your thoughts are." Stiles said, shuddering. "And I should get home, I need a shower."

"Yeah, you reek." Danny teased, making Stiles laugh.

"Alright, alright. So Jungle tomorrow night? It's Luau themed!" Stiles wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to display just how much fun Luau night would be.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you around eight?" Danny looked at Stiles, who nodded. "Cool, see you later man."

"See ya, Danny." Stiles said, as he left the house and started the Jeep. Heading home, he tried to ignore the headache that was building behind his temples, threatening to split his skull in two. He finally made it to his house, parked the Jeep, and headed inside. His dad was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee before going to work.

"Hey, kiddo. How was Danny's?" He asked, looking up from the paper.

"Fun, we killed zombies and I got a wicked bruise playing lacrosse." Stiles smiled, heading towards the stairs.

"I'm probably going to have to work late tonight, but I can pick up some take out on the way home if you want." The Sheriff offered hopefully.

"Nice try, big guy. You are on a diet, and you are sticking to it. I'll run some Stiles Approved food to you later then," Stiles smiled big, and headed upstairs, not quite missing out on his dad grumbling about who was the real parent in this relationship. Stiles got into his room, taking a hot shower, and falling back asleep for a couple hours. When he woke up, he had a text from Scott, so he invited him to come over and play video games for a bit, but it dissolved into whining about how much he missed Allison and Stiles had to kick him out in order to maintain some semblance of their friendship.

Stiles got bored quickly. After rearranging his desk twice, and failing to beat the boss of this level three times, he decided to go to Jungle. He knew he had told Danny they would go the next night, and they would. But that didn't mean he couldn't go tonight. He put on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a black fitted v-neck t shirt. Stiles didn't usually rock the all black look, but it made him feel sexy and dangerous tonight and it was basically exactly what he needed after making such a fool of himself the night before. He headed out of the house, stopping to pick up a veggie burger to drop off at the station for his dad. After doing that, and telling his father that he would be at Scott's for a little bit to help him study for the PSATs, he swung towards Jungle. He double checked his hair in the rearview mirror. Maybe he was being ridiculous, but he really wanted some sloppy makeouts tonight. He headed to the door, flashing his fake and his best smile. The bouncer nodded him in, and Stiles went straight for the bar. A little liquid luck went a long way, and Stiles was dancing on the floor like his best friend wasn't driving him crazy obsessing over a girl instead of hanging out with him, and like his father wasn't working himself into an early grave. He glimpsed Derek through the crowd, standing against the bar with a drink. Derek hadn't seen him, so Stiles just kept dancing. He was definitely not trying to be extra sexy. He was definitely not trying to be seen. Not at all. Not grinding his ass into the guy he was dancing with more suggestively than he normally would have, not hoping a certain Sourwolf would steal him away from the guy he was currently dancing with. When he glanced back over at Derek, the Alpha's eyes were boring into him, an indescribable expression on his face. Stiles smirked, and bit his lip, grinding his ass into the boy behind him, who twisted his arm around Stiles' waist. Stiles winked at Derek, who narrowed his eyes. Grinning, Stiles extracted himself from his dance partner, and wove his way to the bar.

"Like what you see?" He asked Derek, smiling as he got a beer. "Bet you wish I was giving you another lap dance, yeah Sourwolf?"

"You need to stop drinking." was Derek's only reply, taking the beer from Stiles' hands and taking a sip.

"Oh come on, one beer is not going to kill me." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Maybe, but this is not your first drink tonight, is it?" Derek raised an eyebrow, watching as Stiles nearly missed the barstool he was attempting to sit in.

"Alright, _Dad_, maybe not." Stiles conceded.

"Why isn't Danny with you tonight?" Derek asked, scanning the crowd for the boy he already knew wasn't there. He had smelled when Stiles got the club, had noticed that he was alone.

"We're coming tomorrow night, I just… I was just so bored, there's nothing to do, and I like it here." Stiles shrugged.

"Why don't you hang out with Scott?" Derek asked, taking another sip of beer. Of _Stiles' _beer, actually.

"Tried that." Stiles snorted. "He's working on not seeing Allison all summer, it's all he talks about. If I hang out with Scott for any extended period of time, I am going to stab myself in the face. Or stab him in the face. Yeah, definitely him."

"Okay, but why Jungle?" Derek asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Why the first degree? Why are you here?" Stiles cocked his head to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. Derek growled.

"Just go dance, Stiles." Derek finished the rest of the beer, and walked on to the dance floor. Stiles grinned and followed him. He wove between the twisting bodies, until an absolutely gorgeous guy just a little taller than him pulled him towards him. The two bodies danced, moving together to the music. Stiles wove his fingers through the boy's hair, and the boy leaned down for a kiss. They made out with the music, and the boy slowly led them until they were pressed against a wall, off to the side. Stiles leaned into the kisses, as the boy slid his tongue into Stiles' mouth. The kisses grew faster, until the boy snaked his hand down Stiles' waist, to the waistband of his jeans.

"No, dude," Stiles muttered into the kiss, pulling the boy's hand up. The boy shook Stiles' hand off, putting his hands more firmly on Stiles' hips. He slipped a finger under the waistband of Stiles' jeans, pulling them down a little. "Dude, I said no!" Stiles shoved at the boy's shoulders. The boy brought his lips back onto Stiles' with bruising force, hooking both his thumbs under Stiles' jeans, and tried to pull them lower. Stiles thanked God for his tighter-than-usual pants as he tried to push the guy off him - until suddenly he was gasping for air, pushing against nothing and stumbling forward a little. He didn't get very far, stumbling into a muscular back that sent him back against the wall. "Derek? What-" Stiles didn't get very far, as he saw the guy who had been kissing him on the floor in front of Derek, who sounded like he was growling. "Whoa, calm down. Calm down. He stopped. _Please do not wolf out in the middle of the gay club._" Stiles hissed the last part between his teeth, putting his hands on Derek's shoulders.

"Get out." Derek ordered between gritted teeth, glaring at the guy. He apparently did not need to be told twice, scrambling to his feet and booking it towards the door. After making sure he was actually gone, Derek whipped around, pressing Stiles back up against the wall. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What were you thinking?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Jesus. Though I'm getting real tired of being held against this wall against my will." Stiles looked at Derek pointedly. The Alpha dropped his hands like he had been scalded.

"We're leaving." Derek said, grabbing Stiles' wrist and leading him to the door.

"You don't have to leave too, I'm perfectly capable of getting myself home." Stiles complained, following Derek nonetheless.

"No, you're not. You can't drive like that, and knowing your luck, something awful would happen to you before you made it home." Derek snapped over his shoulder as they exited the club.

"I'm glad you have so much faith in me." Stiles rolled his eyes, getting in the Jeep's passenger seat. His eyes were low, twisting his fingers together.

"Hey, are you okay?" Derek asked, turning in his seat. Stiles shrugged, keeping his eyes down. "Stiles?"

"I'm fine," Stiles mumbled, which he was sure would have been almost believable if his voice hadn't decided to crack on that last syllable. It was like a dam breaking, and suddenly Stiles found himself hyperventilating, tears falling down his face as his whole body shook.

"Hey, Stiles, you're okay, it's all okay." Derek said, reaching across, stopping his hand just before putting it on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles could see through tear-clouded eyes that Derek's face was torn, like he wasn't sure what to do. Stiles shifted towards him a bit, and Derek took the hint. He put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, and pulled the younger boy in for a hug, rubbing his back and whispering reassurances into Stiles' ear, until his breathing evened out and he was just sniffling.

"Thanks," Stiles mumbled, putting on his seatbelt and pulling his legs up underneath him. Derek looked awkward for a second, and Stiles looked at him. "Really. Thank you." Derek nodded, and pulled out of Jungle's parking lot. Once he got to Stiles' house and handed back the car keys, Derek turned back, to go pick up his car. "Derek?" He paused, and looked back. "I don't want to be alone tonight." Stiles whispered, looking at his shoes, and Derek could see a tear falling from where he was. He was back at Stiles' side in an instant. The boy offered him a thankful smile, and the two headed inside. Leading Derek upstairs, Stiles opened his bedroom door. "Isn't it weird coming in through the front door? It's almost like how normal people do it." Derek glared, and crossed his arms. "Aw, it's okay Sourwolf. I understand that you just can't resist the direct entrance to my bedroom." Stiles clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as he said it. _Awesome, the guy saves you from being sexually assaulted and you hit on him. Brilliant._ "You know, I'm just gonna change." Stiles grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and exited to the bathroom.

Derek let out a breath. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was Stiles hitting on him? Derek shook his head and looked around the room. It was a mess, but it looked as though there might have been some sort of order. Maybe. Stiles came back into the room wearing his pj's and Derek found his eyes more drawn to the way the fabric clung around a certain area more than jeans ever did. Stiles didn't notice Derek's preoccupation, throwing his dirty clothes on a pile that may have had a hamper buried somewhere within. Derek drew his eyes away from Stiles'... away from Stiles and mentally shook himself. Was this how he was going to react anytime the boy made a remotely suggestive comment?

"Hey, you wanna borrow a pair of sweatpants or something?" Stiles asked, holding out a pair of soft gray sweats and a navy t-shirt. Derek took them with a nod, taking off his sweater. "Whoa, okay. Sure Derek you can change right here in front of my virgin eyes. Not that I entirely mind…" Stiles probably thought he said that last bit too low to hear, but Derek definitely heard and it went straight to his cock. _No. Not after what happened at Jungle. Just… no._ Derek forced himself to think rationally. He finished changing, neatly folding his clothes and setting them on Stiles' desk chair. "Well I'm going to go to sleep." Stiles said after a slightly awkward pause, getting into bed. Derek nodded, looking around for a clear spot on the floor to sleep. "Um, Derek? You don't have to sleep on the floor if you don't want to." Stiles kept his back to Derek, probably trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck. Derek could hear his heart pounding as he climbed into bed, turning on his side so their backs were almost touching. "Goodnight, Sourwolf."

"Goodnight, Stiles." Derek mumbled, as Stiles turned off the light.

"Thank you," Stiles whispered. Derek's heart stuttered, and he was immeasurably grateful that Stiles didn't have werewolf hearing.


End file.
